


Scar

by OccasionalStorytelling



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: A little bit of angst, CONNOR JUST NEEDS ANDROID THERAPY OKAY, mostly friends helping each other out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 04:30:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15678045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionalStorytelling/pseuds/OccasionalStorytelling
Summary: Markus tries to initiate an interface with Connor, when he notices a MASSIVE GASH in Connor's hand, one that hasn't been fixed since a run-in at Stratford Tower...





	Scar

**Author's Note:**

> In this version of events, Connor interrogated the deviants at Stratford Tower, but didn't die in the kitchen or for the rest of the game. The same model that got stabbed through the hand survived until the end of the revolution, after which he of course befriended Markus and North and everyone. Simon survived and is now Jericho's main mechanic (so, their doctor).

Markus laughed, and took his hand off the computer screen. “Connor, you  _ have  _ to see this meme,” he smiled. “Wait--you do know what a meme is, right?”

 

“No,” Connor lied, flashing back to the time he’d tearfully informed Hank that he didn’t have enough money for chicken nuggets, not realizing that Hank was filming him. Fortunately, when the video when viral, everyone assumed that it was Nathan or one of the other RK900 models, and not the innocent android-detective-prototype Connor. It was Connor and Hank’s little secret.

 

“What? Memes are--nevermind,” Markus sighed, stepping closer. “Let me show you it,” he said, raising his palm.

 

“Oh, sure,” Connor flinched, taking a step back. “Let me connect to your screen.”

 

“Come on, I’ll just show you,” Markus said, stepping closer.

 

“Okay,” Connor said, raising his hand too.

 

Markus initiated the connection, and the fake skin dissolved away as he took Connor’s hand. “It’s such a good meme,” Markus smiled. He heard a faint “tink” sound and opened his eyes. His white plastic hand was touching Connor’s hand, noticeably still covered in skin. “Connor?” Markus asked.

 

“Yes?” Connor said.

 

“Your hand,” Markus said.

 

“What about it?” Connor asked, blushing a deep blue.

 

“You aren’t connecting,” Markus said. He tried once more, lighting up his hand. Words appeared in the air in front of him: “CONNECTION FAILED.”

 

“Oh,” Connor said.

 

“I get it,” Markus said, stepping back. “I’m sorry, I should have asked first. I wasn’t being respectful of your boundaries.”

 

“No, it’s not that--” Connor started.

 

“No, I’m sorry, everyone reacts to being deviant differently and I shouldn’t have--”

 

“It’s nothing,” Connor said, cutting Markus off. “I want to see your meme, all right?” Connor held up his hand and let the nanobots forming the skin fade away.

 

“Oh my god,” Markus gasped, trying to stop himself from going closer. “Can I...can I touch it?”

 

“It connects just fine,” Connor said.

 

“May I?” Markus whispered, eyes locked on Connor’s hand. Connor was turning a darker blue as more thirum rushed to his face. He nodded. Markus stepped closer and took Connor’s hand in his own. Connor’s plastic was white, beautiful, and flawless--except for the fact that it contained a massive gash right in the center. Markus could see clear through Connor’s hand, not to mention the glitching sparks of wires sticking out the sides of the gash.

 

“Connor, what happened?” Markus asked, analyzing the hole.

 

“Well,” Connor took a deep breath. Markus felt briefly the pulse of a connection as Connor tried to decide whether or not to tell him, but Markus didn’t connect. Connor wanted to have this conversation aloud.

 

“It’s from before I woke up. It was one of the deviants you converted at Stratford Tower,” Connor admitted, doing his best not to pull away from Markus’s gentle touch. Connor watched Markus carefully keep a neutral facial expression as he absorbed the information.

 

“What happened?” Markus asked.

 

“I was interrogating the androids in the kitchen, and I knew one of them was a deviant. I had to figure out who it was, so I tried to provoke them into reacting to me. The deviant tried to escape, and grabbed a knife. He stabbed it through my hand into the counter, pinning me there.” Connor’s LED flashed red. (Markus had never been able to convince his friend to remove the LED, like most of the other androids.)

 

“I can’t believe it,” Markus grumbled, sitting on the ground in a huff. “I gave explicit instructions, and I specified that we weren’t going to commit any acts of violence.”

 

“I pushed him into it, it was my fault,” Connor said, kneeling next to Markus and staring down at his hand.

 

“Someone attacked you. It was his fault for doing that to you,” Markus said, awkwardly trying to hug Connor. Connor let himself be hugged, but he had a strange look in his eyes.

 

“I...called out for Hank, and he didn’t come,” Connor ended up saying. “He didn’t come. I knocked over a bunch of things and then finally managed to pull the knife out...I thought I was going to shut down in there, alone.”

 

“What?” Markus asked. Connor initiated a connection, and Markus dove after it. Markus watched, from Connor’s perspective, as the deviant ripped out Connor’s thirium pump and left. Markus was heartbroken, and disappointed. He knew that there were deviants who were angry about their treatment under the previous laws, but to try and kill one of their own kind like that? Markus felt Connor holding his breath until the memory reached the point at which Connor had reinserted his thirium pump and left the room. Connor broke the connection, but before he did, Markus could sense the guilt Connor felt about the things he’d done before he woke up. Connor didn’t want Markus to see more, for fear that Markus would hate him.

 

“I’m surprised you don’t hate me for leading the revolution that almost got you killed,” Markus said, holding Connor tighter.

 

“I could never hate you, Markus,” Connor said, and the two of them felt the tension in the room decrease a little bit. Markus wondered if Connor’s social relations program was running and calculating the change. (It was. “Tension at 27% and falling,” Connor saw.)

 

“We gotta get this fixed,” Markus said, lifting Connor’s hand and looking at the hole.

 

“I know,” Connor said, looking away.

 

“Why didn’t you fix it when you were with Cyberlife?” Markus asked, trying to catch Connor’s eye.

 

“I told Amanda about it, but she said the skin could disguise the injury, and that it wouldn’t affect the investigation, and that Cyberlife wasn’t going to waste valuable resources and time repairing a prototype that couldn’t even complete his mission,” Connor said, spitting the words out with a bitterness Markus had only seen very rarely. Of all the things that Connor loved (and that list was long and varied), Connor absolutely hated very little. One of those things was Amanda, and Connor still hated talking about her.

 

“That’s ridiculous!” Markus yelped, barely able to contain himself. “They didn’t want to repair you because they thought you were a failure?”

 

“I mean, I guess so!” Connor said, throwing his arms in the air and looking angry. Markus looked a little closer. Connor wasn’t angry, he was...worried.

 

“You’re not a failure,” Markus said, leaning closer. “You’ve never failed yourself.”

 

“I just… hate having to create my own objectives, you know?” Connor said. “I never feel...I just feel like…”

 

“I know,” Markus said. “I need reassurances of Carl’s praise and support before I can even think about picking up a paintbrush, and you know how I love to paint. It’s hard when you just want someone to tell you what to do.” Connor was silent. “Does Hank know about it?” Markus asked.

 

“No,” Connor sighed. “I don’t usually let him see me without my skin. I keep getting worried he won’t like me like that.”

 

“Hank’s your partner,” Markus said. “He knows the real you.”

 

“Whatever,” Connor smiled, trying to change the subject. “Just show me the meme, okay?”

 

“Nope,” Markus smiled, standing up. “Come on. We’re taking you to Simon for a patch job.”

 

“Really?” Connor looked apprehensive. “I don’t want to bother anyone, there’s so many other androids with worse malfunctions than me, I just--”

 

“No buts about it,” Markus said, gracefully lifting Connor and carrying him like a princess. “No more open wound in my friend’s hand.”

 

“Thank you,” Connor smiled, resting his head on Markus’s shoulder.

 

“Just looking after my own,” Markus said, heading for Simon’s workshop. He watched Connor staring at the hole in his hand, turning it back and forth to see all the angles. “You deserve better,” Markus said firmly.

 

“Maybe I do,” Connor said, smiling.


End file.
